


Reciprocity

by st4rlabsforever (omaken)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9086566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omaken/pseuds/st4rlabsforever
Summary: Cisco tends to put Barry on a pedestal, forgetting that he’s still human with a whole host of insecurities. Barry tends to forget that Cisco has no idea what it’s like to be capable of running thousands of miles per hour.Even the two of them, despite fitting into each other’s lives like missing puzzle pieces, have to learn how to adjust.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is more or less my adaptation of this [iconic scene](http://ifuckinghatevideogames.tumblr.com/post/53063049502) from the comics

One day, Cisco notices that all the particle physics and mechanics texts are all out of order on his bookshelf. He’s positive they weren’t like that last week. He may be scatterbrained, and he’s definitely guilty of having too much clutter all over his apartment, but if there’s one thing that requires order and organization, it’s his books and journal volumes.

“Hey, Bar?” he calls out, frowning when he finds an _Atomic Physics_ book between two _Quantum Mechanics_ texts.

The gust of wind that hits his back tells him Barry’s out of bed. “Yeah?”

“Did you mess with my books, dude?”

“Uh, no?”

Cisco finishes his rearranging and jumps off the chair he’s standing on (because being five nine with a ten-foot bookshelf really sucked). “They were all out of order. It messes up my workflow when I gotta go hunting for references.”

“Ahh, weird.” Barry scratches the back of his neck. “It wasn’t me though. Hey! Want some breakfast? I’m gonna make some breakfast!” He flashes off to the kitchen, manic grin firmly in place.

Cisco sighs. It’s not like he doesn’t know Barry’s the rogue book shuffler – Cisco rarely has company over his apartment, and when he does, it’s usually Iris or Cait, who are way too organized for their own good. It’s just, he doesn’t know _why_ Barry’s going through all his books. Poor guy has confided in him multiple times that he started out as a physics major, but switched halfway through his sophomore year.

Cisco doesn’t have time to think about it further, because Barry is ushering him over to the kitchen table and dumping an enormous stack of pancakes in front of him.

*

The rest of the day passes without incident. That is, until Barry peeks his head over Cisco’s shoulder as he’s going over calculations and reports.

“Hey! Whatcha got there?”

Cisco scribbles corrections in the margins of his printout, not bothering to look up at Barry. “Just reports on the last particle accelerator test.”

“Wait, it’s still running?” Barry asks with wide eyes, clearly concerned. “I thought you guys shut it down after it blew last time?”

“Relax. It’s inactive, but I run tests every month to make sure nothing’s out of the ordinary. Think of it like a volcano. Even an inactive one can suddenly become active again, so I’m just being proactive for once.”

“Oh.” Barry slumps in relief, then perks up again, picking out a line in Cisco’s notes. “Is that the time-dependent Schrödinger equation?”

“Nah, the Klein-Gordon equation,” Cisco says, slightly confused why Barry’s asking. “It’s basically energy-momentum in quantized form.”

“Oh. And that one’s the De Broglie theory?”

“Nope, that would be this one.” Cisco points out the complicated-looking equation a couple lines below.

“But I thought it was just ‘h’ over ‘p’?”

“Ahh. You’re thinking of the De Broglie _wavelength_.”

“No, but I…” Barry zips over to the bookshelf and pulls down a textbook, and Barry’s moving too fast for Cisco to get a proper look, but he’s pretty sure it’s Persico’s _Fundamentals of Quantum Mechanics_.

“...Oh,” Barry groans, then plops his head down over the open pages as he maintains his cross-legged position, which is impressive in itself. Being the Flash must’ve done wonders for his flexibility, but Cisco shakes away the thought because otherwise his mind will _really_ start to wander.

Barry looks up, sighs, and says “you were right.”

Cisco raises an eyebrow. “Something you wanna share with the class?”

Barry looks down at the book again and slumps in defeat. Which is Cisco’s first clue that he must be missing something here.

“Okay, it was me.” Barry closes the Persico text and tosses it back on the shelf, winces, then puts it back in the _correct_ position when Cisco shoots him a withering look. “I was the one who went through your books.”

“But...why?”

“I just...I guess I’m trying to be smarter?” Barry hunches in on himself, which just confuses Cisco even more.

“But you’re already smart.”

“Not like you, I’m not.”

“I’ve been studying this stuff for years and had to work my ass off, though,” Cisco points out. “You skimmed some books over the weekend.”

“That’s not what I...you’re a _genius_ , Cisco. And don’t get me wrong – I’m _so_ proud of you. I love that I get to brag to everyone about how smart you are.”

Barry grins, and his eyes crinkle at the edges. Cisco has to fight the urge to swoon. They had been invited by Iris to the CCPN holiday party last night, and for half the night, Cisco had to duck his head in fond embarrassment as Barry went on and on to anyone who would listen about how amazing and incredible and brilliant his boyfriend was.

“It’s just that...I don’t want you to feel like you’re settling for me? I mean, you’re a catch, dude. Anyone would be lucky to have you. I just wanna make sure that I’m worth it, you know?”

Oh. Oh, no.

Cisco’s heart clenches when he realizes what Barry is saying. “I love you for who you are, Bar. You don’t need to be a physics whiz or like, the next Einstein. Besides, you’re a hero, dude.”

Barry frowns. “It’s my job to save people.”

“And it’s _my_ job to handle the tech and brainstorming. I’m the eyes and ears, and you’re the feet, remember?”

“You already do so much, though. I mean, you go out with me in the field now, and you build all the toys and make sure STAR Labs stays up and running. I guess I just feel...useless? Like I’m not pulling my own weight…”

“C’mon, dude. You know that’s not true.” Cisco walks over to Barry and gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “ _You’re_ a catch.”

The pout doesn’t fully leave Barry’s face, even as Cisco pulls him over to the couch and they settle in for a movie.

*

The rest of the week is mostly normal, except that Barry seems to be moping a little more than normal. And Cisco must have underestimated what’s got Barry in such a tizzy, because he’s not comprehending why, exactly, Barry is suddenly so eager to help with the science side of things at STAR Labs.

He chips in with his own calculations, staring at Cisco like a kicked puppy as Cisco bathes the whole page in red with corrections. And it’s not like Barry’s dumb – far from it – but these things take time. Cisco’s devoted his entire adult life to physics and engineering. Aside from his engineering degree, he’s got five years’ practical experience in the field. Barry, it seems, doesn’t realize that speeding through textbooks isn’t necessarily a sustainable solution, especially since his retention when learning at super speed is fairly dismal.

And even further, that Barry feels...inadequate? Is news to Cisco. If anything, he figured Barry’s been drowning in validation since becoming the Flash. Central City views him as a hero and has publically honored him for his contributions to the city.

At least, if Barry’s been having self-esteem issues, they haven’t been apparent to Cisco. And then, Cisco starts to overthink it. Has he been a bad boyfriend…?

*

“Barry’s always been...well, his self-esteem has never been the greatest, you know?”

Cisco shakes his head, and Iris sighs.

“The whole thing with his mom, for sixteen years no one believed him. Even dad and I were skeptical until he got his powers.”

“But he always seems so....”

“Confident?” Iris supplies. For as long as Cisco’s known him, Barry’s been this upbeat guy. Sure, he’s struggled profoundly with loss – they all have – but he’s also the self-assured leader who guides them all into battle, who sees the light at the end of the tunnel when it all seems hopeless.

Iris takes a sip from her mug before speaking again. “That’s a relatively new development. He’s been more closed off lately, and I’m scared he’s bottling it all up.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is since becoming the Flash, Barry’s been under enormous pressure to put on a brave face. There are expectations on him that I don’t think you or I can begin to understand.” Iris frowns and looks down at her cappuccino, suddenly not wanting to make eye contact with Cisco.

“But he can talk to us. He can talk to _me_.”

“Cisco, who do you think he’s trying to impress?”

Cisco is thrown for a loop. He loves Barry for who he is, and he knows the same is true on Barry’s end. If anything, Cisco’s the one who sometimes feels like he’s dating way, way, _way_ up. Barry is selfless, conventionally attractive in the way that turns heads whenever they’re out, and has been so patient with Cisco as he learns the ins and outs of being a superhero. And maybe, just maybe, Cisco had put Barry on such a pedestal that he’d forgotten Barry was still human – mostly human – with insecurities of his own.

“Ah.” Cisco’s at that ‘ _Eureka!_ ’ moment where it’s all beginning to make a grim sort of sense.

“He’s been confiding in you, then?”

“I...think so?” Cisco says, brain working in overdrive to come up with a game plan. He gathers up his backpack and hastily throws on his jacket before grabbing his cup of coffee. “Gotta go.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Cisco slings his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve already helped more than you know.” This is mostly something Cisco has to deal with on his own. Iris knows Barry best, but Cisco’s uniquely suited to resolving the present issue. After all, it partially stems from Barry’s self-doubts in _comparison_ to Cisco.

“Keep me posted?” Iris asks.

“Obviously.”

On his way home, Cisco stops by the library first, checks out a couple of engineering texts he doesn’t already own, then heads to city hall to read up on town ordinances and building codes. By the time he’s home and in front of his computer, he’s got most of his plan already laid out.

*

“Yo, Barry?”

Barry looks up from the tract of Cisco’s carpet that he’s claimed as his own. There are journal papers and textbooks scattered all about him, and with his hair all mussed up like that, Barry looks like something of a mad scientist.

“Do you have the suit with you?” Cisco asks.

Barry frowns, already beginning to stand up. “Why? Is the metahuman app going off?”

“Chill, dude. I just thought we could head out on patrol for a bit. Clear our minds, you know?”

There’s a flash of yellow light, then Barry is standing in front of him in the Flash suit and holding out Cisco’s own suit and goggles.

“So, how was your day?” Barry asks idly.

Cisco slips off his jeans, grumbles when the denim bunches around his ankles and refuses to give, and lets out a sigh of relief when Barry helps pull them loose. “ _Very_ productive,” he says, finally.

“Yeah?” Barry perches himself in reverse on one of the kitchen chairs, draping his legs around the back post.

“Yeah.”

“In what way?” Barry asks, and Cisco doesn’t miss the appreciative glances Barry shoots at his backside. He gives his butt a wiggle in Barry’s direction, and Barry snorts.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.”

Barry raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Oh.”

Barry’s lips tick up in a smirk. Even after seeing it directed at him so many times, Cisco still feels that jolt of _something_ in his stomach. He’s on a mission tonight, though, and if he keeps egging Barry on, things are going to head in a not-so-disagreeable, but certainly unproductive direction, so he zips up his vest, adjusts his goggles, and slings his bag full of books over his shoulder.

“What do you need that for?” Barry asks, nodding at Cisco’s shoulder.

“All part of the plan.”

“Right.” Barry hops over the back of the chair and lands right up in Cisco’s personal space. He reaches out a hand as if to ask ‘ _can I?_ ’ and there’s something about that level of courtesy that Cisco can’t help but find endearing. Being held close by Barry when they move at supersonic speeds is also a major plus, but hey, it’s the little things.

“Actually,” Cisco holds up a hand in veto, “I was thinking I could take the lead tonight.”

There’s a momentary look of awe on Barry’s face before it passes. He nods easily, taking a step back as Cisco adjusts the gauntlets.

“Ready?”

Barry squeezes his shoulder, gentle yet firm in a way that Cisco has come to understand as _‘I trust you.’_ Once the breach is open, the hand on Cisco’s shoulder drifts over to the back of his neck, pushing and pulling him along until the insistent pressure explodes in a rush of wind and lightning.

*

“Is this…?”

“12 Esplanade,” Cisco nods, surveying the pile of rubble in front of them.

“Why are we here, Cisco?”

“Do you remember that night we realized this place was gonna blow?”

“Of course.” Barry turns around from where he’s sifting through bricks and assorted debris. He’s got that wistful look on his face again, the one that makes an appearance every time he’s reminded of his perceived failings. “If you hadn’t figured out what those guys were planning, I never would’ve made it in time.”

Cisco shrugs. “Don’t sell yourself short. You literally rescued an entire apartment complex from an explosion _as it was happening_.”

“Whole lot of good that did. None of those people have a home, now.” Barry kicks angrily at a stray brick, and with the super speed backing him up, it causes a loud boom that reverberates up and down the street.

Luckily, Cisco’s the man with the plan tonight. “That’s why we’re here, buddy. Tonight is all about teaching the man how to fish.”

Barry frowns. “What exactly are we fishing for, and who’s the man?”

“You are, you doofus. And we’re fishing for a new apartment building. C’mere.” Barry trails after Cisco as he finds a relatively clean section of ground and dumps all the books from his backpack, laying them out so their titles are clearly visible.

“Oh hey, that’s weird,” Cisco says. “I somehow have a copy of the original blueprints for this place.”

“Cisco…”

“I mean, this is cool, right? Check it out.”

Barry crouches down, gloved hands and knees on the ground as he pores over the intricate diagrams. “What are we supposed to do with this, though?”

“Ah, glad you asked. I have it on good authority that I’m an engineering whiz.” _That_ seems to get a smile out of Barry. Score. “But here’s the thing: it usually takes an entire construction crew over a year to build something like this. There’s still a couple of structural-civil concepts I’m not familiar with, and have you _seen_ how many zoning and building codes Central City has?”

Cisco holds up the nearly one-foot-thick text that will presumably tell them how to build this place without getting jailed and/or fined into oblivion. He’s beginning to remember why, exactly, he realized civil engineering wasn’t for him.

Barry seems to be catching on at least. “Do you really think we can do this?” he asks. The expression on his face is one of just barely-restrained earnestness, and Cisco can see how excited he is to actually try this.

“Sure, I think you’re more than capable actually.”

“Wait, you’re not gonna help?” Barry asks. Oh man, it’s going to be incredible when Barry realizes he’s built the entire thing by himself.

“Let’s put it this way,” Cisco says. “Think of this project as your thesis and me as your advisor. I’m here to guide you along and occasionally nudge your cute little behind in the right direction–” Barry barks out a laugh and gives him a playful poke in the ribs “–but this thing is all you.”

“Alright then, Professor Ramon. Where do we begin?”

Cisco slides him the blueprints, Allen and Schreyer’s _Fundamentals of Residential Construction_ , and the text on city regulations. “You tell me.”

And Barry’s eyes widen almost comically, possibly a healthy combination of shock and panic. “Uh, well, we should probably, um…” He flips through the entirety of the Schreyer text in a matter of seconds. Cisco won’t lie: he’s extremely envious. “The entire foundation’s probably wrecked now, so we should replace it?”

Cisco doesn’t miss the way Barry’s voice rises up in question at the end. Once upon a time, it was the same way with Cisco – mostly when neither his parents nor any of his teachers could quite believe he placed out of grades 5 and 6 – and as such, he’s got a fairly good idea of what sort of tone he needs to take here.

He grins, cups his hands around his mouth like sports commentator talking about the winning play, and shouts, “And the Flash nails it in one go!”

“You’re so cheesy, dude.” Barry’s grin could probably be seen from the I.S.S., or wherever it was they took those gorgeous overhead space shots from. Cisco’s lost himself in that grin more than once; it lights up the entire damn city for miles, his very own star that never seems to set.

“Help me out?” Barry asks. He cracks his back and saunters over to the pile of rubble before racing laps around its perimeter. The bricks and slabs of concrete begin to break down as their resonant frequency is hit, and now that they’re not racing against the clock to prevent a bridge from collapsing, Cisco has time to properly enjoy how cool that is.

“Heads up.” Cisco primes his gauntlets and lets loose. The wall of vibrations pulverizes everything else that Barry missed.

“Nice,” Barry says, breathless.

“So, I think we gotta do something with this dust,” Cisco says. He hadn’t quite anticipated what a public health hazard this would be. “It’s gonna start dispersing soon.”

“Right.” Barry flips through the city’s primer even as he funnels all the dust towards himself. “There’s a landfill on the south side. Near the industrial park. It’s where they get rid of this sort of stuff.”

“On it,” Cisco says immediately. “Right to the bottom of the garbage dump you go.” He opens the breach, and Barry directs the dust cloud into it.

“Whew.” Barry holds his hand out for a fistbump, and Cisco reflexively taps his gloved knuckles against Barry’s. “I think we might actually be able to do this.”

“I’ve been _saying_.”

“Okay, so!” Barry claps his hands together, “concrete for the foundation.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before zipping this way and that. Bags of Portland cement – the ninety-four-pound sacks you can get at Home Depot – materialize around them, and when he finally stops moving, Cisco sees that he’s perched over one of those orange five-gallon buckets, face screwed in concentration as his arms move rapidly to stir the cement-water-mineral mixture.

The white block letters of the ‘ _Let’s Do It_ ’ slogan stare back at Cisco, illuminated in the yellow glow of Barry’s perpetual movement. It’s nice to see Barry so in his element, Cisco thinks. Chemistry is his thing. And he seems to even relax a little as he carefully measures out the correct proportions of aggregate and cement.

A couple minutes later the entire foundation is already setting, and Barry, sweat-stained and panting, rubs his arm across his forehead. He’s got the cowl off, too. Cisco makes a mental note to thank whatever God who decided to gift him with Barry Allen.

Cisco lets off a low whistle. “Hope you’ve been getting all your vitamins and minerals.”

Barry’s suddenly in front of him grinning like a loon. “Only for you,” he declares and pecks him on the cheek before darting off again. Who was the cheesy one now?

He only blinks once, but there’s a fine mist evaporating from the concrete. He crouches down next to Barry, who’s got his hands splayed out on the concrete surface.

“Vibrating the molecules to evaporate the water?” Cisco asks.

“Something like that. It’s just kinetic energy.”

Cisco tests a foot on the now-solid foundation. “Nifty.” That shit usually takes _days_ to cure properly.

“How’re we doing on time?”

“It’s been less than five minutes, so...more than good, I’d say.”

“Sweet.” Barry dusts himself off, and Cisco has already resigned himself to powerwashing the suit tomorrow morning. “Can you check over my calculations?”

“What calculations?”

“These.” Barry flips through all of the texts again, rifling through the blueprints, cross-checking with the dense appendices in the back of _Schreyer_ as he scribbles rapidly on–

“Hey, is that my brainstorming notebook?!”

“Figured you wouldn’t mind just this once. Calculations are done.” Barry passes the notebook over with a radiant grin, and Cisco supposes it’s nice to see cocky, confident Barry making a reappearance, even if it _is_ at the expense of the sacred doodle pad. Not even Barry is usually allowed to touch it.

“Cheeky. I see you.”

Checking over Barry’s calculations is easily the most time-consuming part of this project, mostly because there are _fifty pages_ of computations to go over _holy God, Barry, what is wrong with you_. It’s a throwback to Cisco’s days TAing for Professor O’Malley’s control systems class; the homeworks and exams on top of marking up the twenty-page lab reports was absolutely brutal.

And okay, it’s not like Barry’s made too many mistakes, at least not at the conceptual level. It’s like getting the antiderivative of a definite integral correctly, but screwing up the late stage arithmetic. And unfortunately, all the tiny errors propagate; when you’re calculating load bearings and factors of safety, those arithmetic errors can be fatal. But hey, Cisco gets to play failsafe today. He carefully goes through each and every page and makes note of the errors. The simple ones Barry fixes straight away – before Cisco can even blink, in fact – but the conceptual ones take a bit more time. Still, what’s five seconds to a picosecond?

They go over materials, then Cisco shows Barry how to use STAR Labs’s industrial lathe and welding system so he doesn’t accidentally kill himself.

After that, it’s all smooth sailing. It’s a wonder, really, to watch the i-beams go up, to watch Barry maneuver them into position. And they truly are a team. Cisco has the technical know-how, sure, but he isn’t capable of absorbing the dense, uber-specific regulations on electrical wiring and gas heating systems, at least not without going insane.

Barry isn’t just speed reading, either. He’s actually taking in the relevant information and figuring out how to apply it. Once he pinpoints that info, it’s just a matter of Cisco OK’ing everything.

And Cisco wants to stay to watch the accelerated time lapse unfold before his eyes, but he’s technically on patrol as Vibe tonight and has to dip out sometime after midnight to stop a bank robbery. One and done. Though it’s always nice to have Barry by his side in the field, he’s more than capable of going solo these days.

On his way back, he makes sure to pick up takeout – four bags’ worth – from the one Chinese place that doesn’t make a big deal about Flash and Vibe ordering their food.

*

Cisco aims a blast at the ground and propels himself up to the incomplete second floor landing.

“Food’s here,” he calls out.

There’s a blast of wind, and all four boxes of lo mein (plus the egg rolls) are gone.

“So,” Cisco says, taking a seat against one of the exposed beams, “Connie says ‘hi’.”

Another blast of wind, and two of his own eggrolls are gone.

“Which one is she again?” Next to Cisco, Barry lays out the bricks and spreads the mortar between them.

“Red sweater.”

“I thought that was Andrea.”

“That’s her sister. Connie is the actual owner,” Cisco says. For a split second, his surroundings explode in a burst of color and wind, and he’s suddenly in a half-finished bathroom, partially-eaten eggroll still in his hand.

It takes Barry a few seconds to reply since he’s tinkering with the plumbing. “Oh. I don’t think Connie likes me very much.”

“Lies. It’s just tough love, man.”

“You give yourself too little credit.” Barry materializes out of the tempest long enough for Cisco to at least make out the way his eyes squint from smiling so hard. “Everyone loves you.”

Cisco is startled by the plop of something – his phone – in his lap. On the front display is...a _very_ unflattering picture of himself with his mouth full, chopsticks held up to his lips as Barry, with the cowl down and sweat-soaked hair on full display, kisses him on the cheek.

Cisco rolls his eyes out of habit. Even though he loves it, he removes the photo from the wallpaper of his phone lest he spoil both their identities in one go.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

Barry doesn’t respond, but the blast of wind tells him that the last two bags of takeout are done. Cisco gives his best effort to finish his lone carton of General Tso’s chicken, but he’s too full even for that. Giving it up as a loss, he slides the carton away from himself, and in the blink of an eye, it’s gone to the wolves – err, wolf. _Singular_ , he corrects himself.

By now, the third floor is almost complete. It’s literally like a reverse tornado. Bits of drywall appear to be carried by lightning. Wires tangle and untangle themselves before being tucked neatly into the walls. The wind gently blows across Cisco’s face as Barry works like a man possessed to bring this project to completion.

It almost brings a tear to his eye to see Barry at it like this.

“Guess what?” Cisco says, if only to fill the silence. “Connie asked me when you and I are getting married.”

Everything comes to a sudden halt. The wind dies down. The lightning disappears. Tools clatter and clang loudly onto the floor.

“What did you tell her?” Barry says ever so slowly.

“Just that we’re taking things one day at a time. Gotta live in the moment, you know?” Truthfully, it’s not something Cisco’s really given much thought to. He definitely _thinks_ he’d like to spend the rest of his days with Barry, but he’s not sure what Barry wants or what his notions of commitment are. Besides, they’re both happy right now, and that’s all that matters, right?

“Ah. Good call.” The grin makes a reappearance as Barry gathers up the screwdrivers and wrenches at a normal speed.

“By the way, you gotta insulate those can lights. It actually makes a big difference, especially during Central City winters.”

“I knew that! Okay, no I didn’t, but now I do. Thanks, dude.”

“All good. Looks like you’re almost done.”

“Just gotta put the finishing touches on now. Oh, and the furniture.”

“I got you covered on that front. A little cyberstalking, and we have a list of things based on social media pictures posted in the last couple of years. Not ideal, but hey.”

“Awesome.” Barry pulls the cowl back over his head. “Hey, thank Connie for the food for me, will you?”

“Tell her yourself. Then you can get the whole speech about marriage, too.”

“Wouldn’t be so bad.”

Cisco’s not really sure what to say to that, but Barry doesn’t give him the chance anyway, already dashing back off to do his thing.

*

The finished result is a marvel.

“The city’s probably gonna have to do an inspection to make sure everything’s in compliance before anyone can move back in, but wow.”

There’s even a wheelchair ramp along the front steps, now. It’s such a tiny detail that’s just so uniquely Barry Allen, Cisco’s not sure how one person can be so good.

“Oof!” Barry crashes into him hard, wrapping his gangly arms around Cisco and squeezing like his life depends on it.

“I love you so much,” Barry says, sounding a little choked up. “Thank you.”

“It was all you,” Cisco manages to get out. He’s a little choked up too, but that’s mostly on account of his air supply being cut off.

“You helped.”

“Okay, it was ninety percent you, though.” The thing about speedster bear hugs is that, while they have the instantaneous effect of making the recipient feel completely loved and wanted and safe, they tend to eventually make breathing (let alone speaking) impossible. And Barry doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon, either.

“Dude, no offense, I love you, too, but I can smell your pit stank and it’s really getting nasty.” The suit reeks after a normal day of activity. After building an entire apartment? It’s at least as bad as vomit or human excrement, even though Cisco (very begrudgingly) is willing to put up with it.

“One more minute,” Barry says. He vibrates his entire body, and the sweat visibly evaporates off of him in droves, which...actually is even more disgusting, and more to the point does absolutely nothing to temper the stench.

When Barry finally does let go, he says, “I’m gonna pay you back one day.” And yup, the edges of his eyes are damp. Cisco’s probably are, too, if he’s being honest.

“I didn’t do any of this because I wanted something in exchange.”

“That’s just like, your opinion, though,” Barry says breezily. “I just wanna show my gratitude for a lifetime of happy memories.”

“You do you, I guess.” They’ve only known each other for eight years, a small fraction of a lifetime, but Cisco will happily roll with whatever dorky declarations of love that Barry wants to make. “Come on, if we’re fast, we might get three hours of sleep before work today.”

Barry gives off a belligerent yawn. “Let’s take a sick day.”

“We just took one last week for that stomach virus I got,” Cisco points out.

“I’ll get us breakfast in bed from Zaberto’s.”

“And one of your back massages?” Cisco asks hopefully.

Barry kisses him on the forehead. “You never have to bargain for those.”

*

“Merry Christmas!” Barry cheers.

“They’re...shoes?” They’re Skymocs – the ones Cisco usually wears to work, and Cisco notices the treads are a close imitation of the special speedster ones he makes for Barry.

“Try ‘em on!”

“Right now?” Cisco glances longingly at the eggnog and cookies laid out on the coffee table.

“C’mon, I made these special for you,” Barry says, fidgeting in his spot on the couch.   
“Yeah, _right now_.”

Cisco sighs. It’s not like he can deny Barry when he gets all overexcited like this. He ties the laces, and takes a few laps around the living room.

“So. Now that you’re wearing them, you should come on a run with me.”

Cisco blinks. “It’s zero degrees outside.”

“So wear a jacket, then. It’ll be fun.”

“I don’t have workout clothes for this weather.”

“What you’re wearing now is fine. Promise.” Barry practically looks ready jump right out of his jeans and throw caution to the wind. “Besides, this is part of your Christmas gift.”

“Exercise is part of my Christmas gift?” Cisco asks, dry.

“Not as such. It just happens to come with the package.”

“Not as such,” Cisco parrots. He does his best to give Barry the staredown – to let him know how unamused he is – but all Barry does is smile that dopey smile back at him. The only person who’s even remotely capable of getting Barry to feel a little bit of regret is Iris, and while she’s been trying to teach Cisco that magic, it hasn’t worked. Like, at all.

“What?” Barry continues to grin. Cisco can physically feel his resistance melting away.

“Fine,” he sighs. “If I die, though, I’m haunting you for the rest of your life.”

“If you die, I think I’d probably die the next day when my tech malfunctions,” Barry says, his smile completely at odds with his words.

*

“How do you want to do this?” Cisco asks. It’s 10 P.M. on Christmas night, and the streets in their quiet corner of Central City are absolutely deserted. His teeth are chattering, and his hands can’t seem to get warm even when he tucks them underneath his armpits.

“I was thinking we could do a quick lap downtown. Check out the sights.”

3.5 miles from their apartment to the The Strip, then half a mile more to the financial district. Cisco can do this. He already does once a week when Barry forces him to get some cardio in, it’s just usually not when a ball-clenching polar vortex is passing through.

Cisco just nods mutely.

“Follow my lead. It’ll get warmer once we start moving.”

“Go slow!” Cisco shouts after him. They take off at a jog, the lightning momentarily rolling off of Barry’s body before he settles at a more manageable speed.

It’s like someone’s flipped a switch. It’s possibly the lightning, or maybe that Barry gives off heat like a furnace on a normal day, but Cisco’s suddenly enveloped in this comforting warmth that swims down his throat, blankets his skin, and seeps right into his bones.

“How’re you feeling?” Barry asks intently.

“Great, actually. Is that you?”

“What?”

“The heat.”

“I run warm, remember?” It’s as cryptic an answer as any, but Cisco takes it for what it is: confirmation.

“We can go faster if you want,” Cisco says.

Apparently, it’s what Barry’s been waiting for, because he increases his pace, long legs taking even longer strides. The most surprising part, Cisco thinks, is that he’s actually able to keep up with Barry five minutes in.

It’s only when they reach the crowded bar strip that Cisco, not even a tiny bit breathless, realizes something is amiss.

Time comes to a complete standstill.

Or rather, it _feels_ like time is progressing normally, but everything around him has slowed down. His feet pound through the fresh snow, but when he looks behind him, chunks of snow that he’s kicked up are still suspended in the air. The throngs of Christmas day revelers look like something straight out of a mannequin challenge. Lightning slowly crackles off of Barry and surrounds the two of them like a protective cocoon.

“How are you doing this?” Cisco asks in awe.

“Just transferring some of my kinetic energy to you. Wally taught me how to do it, actually.”

Cisco slows down so he can better appreciate the scene in front of him. It’s a marvel, really.

“Welcome to my world!” Barry holds his arms up, as if he’s actually delivering up a grand gift (which: he is). He’s grinning like he’s the happiest man in the world, weaving and bobbing through the crowds.   
  


It’s a peculiar sort of paradox. Cisco can perceive where Barry is and what he’s actually doing, but at the same time a part of his brain also sees only the trails of lightning Barry leaves behind. Barry takes a few laps around a couple that’re macking it in front of Jitters, pausing to throw an arm over their shoulders and give Cisco a hearty thumbs up.

Cisco snorts, and takes a photo with his phone. Maybe, just maybe, he’s beginning to understand the appeal of stealth shots at super speed.

“Let’s go a little further,” Barry says. “There’s something else I wanna show you.”

So they head further up Main Street until they’re at the tip of the business district. He’s not sure how fast, exactly, they’re going. It feels leisurely, and Barry’s certainly taking his time, movements languid and laid-back, but he’s also recently hit Mach 4 on a practice run, so it’s all _very_ relative.

The financial center looms two thousand feet above them, and Barry shows no signs of stopping. Cisco’s pretty sure he knows exactly where this going.

It’s _exhilarating_.

“Do you trust me?” Barry asks softly.

And Cisco doesn’t know what he expected running like a speedster to feel like. Of all the inscrutable descriptors, he was not expecting ‘quiet’ to be the most apt one, but it turns out running so fast that trails of lightning roll off his body is pretty soothing. Peaceful, even. He can hear Barry’s soft tones loud and clear.

“‘Course,” Cisco says. It’s the only thing he _can_ say.

“Don’t be scared. You’re not gonna fall.” Barry speeds up, takes on large leap, and begins scaling the face of Central City’s tallest building.

Cisco learns very quickly that getting himself vertical is the _easy_ part. Once he’s running over the steel walls and floor-to-ceiling windows, the reality of the situation hits him. It doesn’t help, either, that he can see all of Central City rising up in his periphery.

“I won’t let you fall,” Barry says, seeming to read his mind. Quite frankly, it’s little reassurance. At least Barry senses his fear; he doubles back and hangs right in Cisco’s personal space. They’re close enough that Cisco can reach out and grab Barry’s hand if he wants to. And he needs both his arms to properly run, but the fact that he’s within catching distance of Barry helps...a little.

The ascent never seems to end. It’s less than half a mile to the viewing platform. 38.39 percent of a mile, to be precise. But their climb feels like it’s lasted longer than the entire four-mile warm up, which can’t be right at all.

“Relax. We’re almost there.” Barry completely skirts the edge of the viewing platform, instead opting to go around the backside and–

“ _HOLY SHIT!_ ”

They’re running straight up the lightning rod. Single file, because its diameter is barely the width of one of his feet, and it’s like balancing on top of a tightrope, _except vertically_. And there’s no illusion of ground beneath him. _Because the horizon extends onward infinitely._

Barry takes his hand, and the lightning intensifies all around him. He feels his heart rate slowing. It’s like Barry’s trying to communicate with him, to tell him ‘ _you’re safe, you’re not going to fall_ ,’ it’s just completely ineffective because he’s two thousand feet in thin air without a safety net.

“–co? Cisco!”

He opens his eyes.

“Yo.” Barry waves a hand across his face.

They’re perched on the maintenance platform just below the tip of the lightningrod. Now that there’s a (horizontal) surface beneath his feet, he’s feeling a lot more confident.

The lights of the big city dance below them. _Everything_ is below them. It’s the highest point in Missouri. The snowflakes around them look as if they’re frozen in time. The lightning dances across Barry’s eyes, warm, inviting, yet utterly alien. This is both Barry and Flash speaking. It’s good, pure, kind-hearted Barry trying to show Cisco some of his favorite things, but it’s also Flash, distant and aloof, yet also receptive as if to say ‘ _you are welcome here._ ’

Cisco blinks, though, and the moment passes.

“Worth it?” Barry asks eagerly.

“There are trade offs.” Cisco peaks over the railing, and – _nope_. “But yeah, totally worth it.”

Of course Barry grins, but his tone is more muted. “I know these past four years with me haven’t been...the easiest. I keep messing up, and every time I think I’ve become a better person, it happens again.”

“You’re only human, Barry.”

“Right, but you’ve been with me every step of the way. You’re patient, and you take the time to explain things from your perspective. I just...I know it’s not much, but I hope knowing my world helps, at least a little.”

“Of course it helps,” Cisco says. He takes Barry’s hands in his. “You and I? We work so well together because there’s a healthy discourse between us. Even when one of us screws up, we pick up the pieces.”

“R-right. Agreed. And, uh…”

There’s a slight chill in the air. A gentle breeze that tickles Cisco’s nose.

“I, um...t-that’s why I wanted to–”

Barry fumbles with something in his pockets. A crumpled up wad of paper falls between the metal grating and out of sight, and two things happen simultaneously:

  1. Barry swears, a first for him in the going on eight years they’ve known each other.
  2. The wind suddenly picks up, buffeting them with snow and hail and drowning out the rest of Barry’s words.



The world fluctuates between slow-mo and really fucking real. Like one of those cassette tapes from the nineties that skips several seconds at once.

“Sorry!” Barry shouts at the top of his lungs. When the wind dies down as abruptly as it began, he apologizes again – more softly this time but every bit as frantic.

“What happened?”

Barry rubs the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize how windy it was up here in real time. When we’re moving at super speed, our bodies adjust more easily to feedback like that.”

“Don’t I know it. Why’d we suddenly drop out of speedster land?”

“Ah.” Barry blushes. “I guess I don’t have as much control over the speed sharing thing as I thought.”

It’s a horrifying thought that sends Cisco’s pessimistic ass plummeting right down the rabbit hole, but it does him absolutely no good to bring it up now that they’re already here.

“You were about to say something before, though.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yeah, that,” Cisco says when it becomes evident Barry isn’t going to elaborate.

“I had a whole speech prepared and everything,” Barry says sheepishly, gently scuffing his shoes back and forth. “But uh...dammit, whatever.” He takes a deep breath. “Just promise me you’ll think about this, okay?”

“Think about what?” Because Barry’s not really making much sense here.

Cisco blinks, and even though they’re supposed to be in speedster time right now, even though Cisco’s supposed to be able to keep track of Barry’s movements, he’s caught completely off guard when he sees Barry in front of him. Kneeling on one knee. Clutching Cisco’s hands in his own.

“Wha-”

“I’ve been thinking about this for awhile,” Barry says earnestly. “That day back in March when we rebuilt the Esplanade...I kind of knew already, b-but I wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same way.”

“About what…?” Cisco’s brain short-circuited several seconds ago.

“I know you wanna take things one day at a time, I just...the only one I wanna spend the rest of my days with is you.”

“What’re you saying?” Cisco asks feebly. A small part of him knows what’s coming next, but he doesn’t want to believe it’s actually happening.

“You make me a better person, Cisco. When I’m with you, I wanna be the best version of myself, and that’s why, if you’ll have me…” He presses a small square container into Cisco’s hands and grins nervously.

Cisco pops open the lid, and his jaw drops. It’s...the ring is more nondescript than Barry’s Flash one, Smaller, but more minimalist and, in Cisco’s opinion, more elegant. There are four concentric circles on the enlarged front face, and that’s definitely a lightning bolt striking right through them. It’s as clear a message as any. Cisco pinches his arm, desperate to make sure this isn’t a dream.

“I know you can’t put your costume in there like mine,” Barry says softly. “But I was thinking maybe we could come up with something together.”

 _Yes_ , Cisco thinks. He’d definitely like that. All he can really do is stare at the stainless steel sitting in the palm of his hand. He doesn’t have a fancy speech prepared. He’s not even really sure what he would say that Barry hasn’t already touched on; everything Barry said about him goes at least twofold in the other direction. Barry is an inspiration. Evidence that even with all of the crap the world’s thrown at him - with all the missteps he’s made - there’s one good thing that’ll always be there for him. Seeing Barry try his darned hardest just to be a force for good makes Cisco want to do the same.

“So…” Barry says tentative. Barry, who’s still kneeling on one knee waiting for an answer.

“Yes!” Cisco says quickly. “No question.”

The wind picks up again, but Cisco hardly notices. It’s hard to notice _anything_ when Barry is kissing him long and deep.

When Barry surfaces for air, he says, “you scared me a little.”

“There’s only you, Bar.” Barry does that thing where he smiles with his lips but laughs with his eyes. “But can we get back home, now?” Cisco hopes his shivering will get the message across.

Barry straightens up. “Are you good to run?”

Cisco peeks over the railing again. He knows they’ve got to start running laps up here before they can make it back down the lightning rod. It looks about as inviting as diving headfirst into an active volcano.

“Yeahhhhh, no. That’s not happening.”

Barry only chuckles, the bastard. “It’s okay. I got you.” He scoops Cisco up in a bridal carry and pecks him on the cheek. “Hang tight.”

Two seconds later they’re back in the warmth of their shared apartment, and Barry’s on top of him, long arms caging Cisco in on the couch as Barry gets back to kissing him.

Living in the moment is good, but knowing that this is his future is even better.

 _Fin_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on [tumblr](http://st4labsforever.tumblr.com)
> 
> comments appreciated :)


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